The Passing
The velvet sky was strangely quiet...
The Earth still and hushed beneath my feet.
No mountains groaned, no crumbling stone
Giving voice to my defeat.
The lake... calm and placid like mirrored glass...
Not a ripple to be seen.
Two loons at play had flown away
Leaving a tranquil pastoral scene.
Birds would sing to mark this day
As beasts roamed throughout the land.
I was not impressed and most distressed...
Nature's laws seemed well in hand.
The morning scented with a familiar air as
Meadow flowers made good their vivid fashion
But in my grief, there was a unyielding belief...
Nature should be gripped with far more passion.
I wanted Earthly reprisals and thunderbolts
To lash out their.. mournful roar.
I wanted winds to squall and towered trees to fall
And huge white capped waves to lap their shores.
I wanted the land to wither and blow away
Where wilted crops grow stunted for the year.
Where the force above... feels a desperate shove
And an unplumbed chasm then appears.
But then again... on further musing,
Such sights would not honor her at all.
We had oft discussed... there be no fuss
When she answered Heaven's call.
No trumpets roared or melodic lyres blurred
As a callous Nature missed that special day...
But Church bells rang and sweet Angelic voices sang...
When my dear Mother passed away.
The End
Copyright © David Mchattie | Year Posted 2020
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